Choices
by Elie Rou
Summary: Zim comes to terms with a few human concepts.


Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, I do not own "V for Vendetta," I do not own the various art works described in the fic. I am making no money from this. I live in an empty noodle cup. I have no money.

This is my first Invader Zim fanfic! Hurrah! Last night was a late night, lemme tell you.

**Warnings: **References of religion and religious figures, intangible concepts, art. Art in it's self can be pretty dangerous.

Author's Note: Read the notes at the bottom, I highly encourage you!

Now, on with the show…

**.Choices.**

"The idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting."

-- Andy Warhol

It's all about our choices. That's what makes up our lives, after all.

Irkens didn't really have choices, not like humans. Zim had a hard time grasping the concept at first. It was strange that on Earth, he was told that his choices were not merely limited to what or when he wanted to eat on the back water planet. People expected more. For example, the student counselor in Midel Skool regularly told the student body that they "could be anything they wanted to be!"

The humans didn't think anything of it. However, Zim was startled. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. Nothing was ever really his decision, at all. The powers that be within Irken society made all his really important decisions for him, as they did with everyone else.

But as Zim slowly began to understand the concept of the 'choice,' he was also introduced to the even more confusing concept of the individual. He learned though the skool history text book that the individual was very important in the human society he was living in. The books, the teachers, and some of the students condemned something that was called 'communism.' They studied how this form of government was supposedly evil and how their great nation had gone to war in order to stop its spreading.

This, Zim did not understand. At least not right away. What was so bad about a government taking care of its people? That's what governments do, right? The society _was_ more important than the well being of the individual. It was similar enough to the system that Irk had that Zim couldn't possibly see what was wrong with it.

As with most awakenings, Zim's did not happen suddenly with a burst of understanding. It happened slowly. A few moments at a time and not in history class. Zim's required art course was where his epiphany happened.

Oh, how he loathed art at first.

It didn't matter that he could draw just fine; it was, again, the concept of it. Why should he waste precious hours where he could be plotting the demise of the humans with making scratches and markings on a page? He could be scheming of ways to take out Dib rather than trying to make circles on paper look like three dimensional spheres!

He also didn't understand how he could be failing at all his art assignments when he made sure to carefully copy the posters on the walls. Giant sunflowers in a vase, a splotchy bridge above a pond, a random can of Campbell's tomato soup.

None of this made the art teacher happy.

"Why can't you make something that comes out of _you_, Zim?! What do you see?"

'Nothing.'

Dib mocked Zim mercilessly for his inability to create anything. Zim just didn't understand what was so important. Art seemed like a dangerous subject anyway. So many of the people who found success wound up dying- usually by their own hand, Zim noticed.

The man who did the large vase of sunflowers apparently shot himself with a primitive human weapon in a field. That was curious. Why would any creature want to end their life. Zim had never heard of such a thing. He would have scoffed at the teacher's attempts to get him to open up. He would have also ranted about how he would destroy Dib for mocking his art block… thingy.

But it frustrated him.

It irritated Zim that he could not understand a stupid human concept. He was ZIM! So why could he not get his superior Irken mind to accept a basic human ideal?

Enlightenment finally came to him on a field trip to a very famous art museum. He hated the bus ride, and standing in line to get tickets made Zim grind his teeth. By the time his art class was unleashed into the galleries, all he desperately wanted was some peace and quiet.

Zim wandered absently through the galleries, trying to ignore Dib's efforts to 'stealthily' follow him. The sound of Dib's mumblings to himself followed the Irken through the halls. Turning a corner, Zim entered what he thought was an empty gallery. There were no paintings on these walls. He turned to leave and stopped dead.

Taking up one of the entire walls was a large oil painting depicting a man attached to a large, lower case 't.' How odd. Zim moved closer to it and noticed there were other people in the painting as well. Two human females kneeled at the base of the 't.' Zim looked closer and saw they were weeping. He noticed with shock that the man was not merely stuck to the 't,' his feet were nailed to it. The blood poured out of the holes around the nails and trickled down to where the women were kneeling. Other people stood by in the back ground. Some were painted to look distraught, like the women. Others were stoic, and dressed in military uniforms of some sort. They also help extremely primitive weapons- spears and swords. The dark red sky reminded Zim of Irk. The rolling black clouds contrasting with the crimson sky. Zim's gaze led his eyes to the man's face. An expression of utter agony twisted his features and was amplified by the crown of thorns he wore around his head. The thorns left streaks of blood to drip down the tortured face.

"What's the matter, Zim? They don't have God on your planet or something?"

Zim flinched at Dib's voice, but he didn't deign to turn around. Instead, he frowned to himself and said, "If this is the way humans treat their god, I'm surprised you've been around long enough for me to even have to destroy you."

Zim heard Dib move closer until they were almost standing side by side.

"That's not God," Dib said softly.

"Then who is it?"

Dib shrugged, "That's up for debate. Some think he is God. Others think he's the son of God. And a lot just believe he was some guy who managed to piss of the right people."

"Does he have name?"

Dib nodded, "Jesus," he replied.

"You mean the word humans say in anger sometimes? A _curse word_? Why would anybody name someone that!?"

Dib startled next to him, "What? No… jeez, you see…" Dib babbled, trying to explain the origins of the man's name.

Zim listened to Dib, but couldn't tear his eyes away.

Without caring for his show of bad manners, Zim interrupted Dib with a whispered question. "What's happening to him?"

Dib jumped a little and looked at Zim oddly. Zim could see the expression out of the corner of his eye. If he had to name it, he guess he would have said Dib looked concerned, maybe. Or maybe he was just suspicious as to why Zim would want to know.

"What are you talking about? He's been nailed to a cross. He's being crucified…duh."

Well, that didn't really sound pleasant. Then again, one thing Zim had learned is that where humans lacked in most basic knowledge, they had an uncanny knack for hurting each other over the stupidest reasons.

"It looks horribly painful," Zim said.

"It is," Dib replied.

"Why would anyone want to paint such a terrible scene?" Zim remembered the sunflowers in the vase. They were not proportional, and he didn't understand why someone would go to the trouble of creating such a useless thing, but they were pleasant to look at. This painting made him feel odd… Like he should try to help the man down from the cross thingy. Or maybe cry. Zim was unnerved that a stupid human painting evoked the urge to cry in him. He had not cried since he was a smeet, and once or twice after injury on the battle field. But never over an image. Then again, he never really saw anything on Irk that may resemble a painting… unless snack packaging counted.

No, he didn't think those did.

"I've never seen anything like this," Zim breathed.

"Planning on using it in your attempts to dominate the world, alien?" Dib sneered and Zim suddenly wished that the stupid human worm would just shut up about world domination. Looking at the man on the cross, Zim suddenly didn't think that dominating a world was so important.

But that was a silly thought. He was an invader. It was his job to invade and destroy. That's what they'd told him. That's all he'd ever been told, really.

Wrenching himself from the painting, Zim turned to Dib. "No," he spat. "I meant that I've never seen anything like this, this whole art thing. All these paintings… A picture of pain. Why would a human want to make a picture of anguish? Zim does not understand this!"

If he could have, Zim would have pulled on his antennae. But they were carefully concealed under his wig, so he settled for folding his arms over his chest.

Dib looked at him with that odd… LOOK again.

"It's no wonder you don't understand, Zim," Dib looked up at the painting, then back down at the alien. "I've studied your culture.. A bit anyway. You don't understand what art is because art- art is about the individual. It's about how one person feels, or how they think. What you are looking at is a bit of one person's idea about the world. This painting… it means something important to the individual who made it. Your kind don't have an individual. You're all the same. You and Tak, your leaders, you all dress the same, you're all conformists."

Dib looked down at the tiled floor, while Zim stood completely still next to him. The pieces were starting to click in Zim's head. Slowly, he was beginning to kind of figure it out, but it still didn't make any sense.

Dib looked at him and suddenly grabbed Zim's shoulders. Locking eyes, Dib said "You grew up in their world. Art is created by individuals and there are no individuals in a world where you are told what to think."1

Zim frowned and shrugged Dib's hand off of him. He loved Irk, and his Tallest. It ws a good thing they told him what to think. What would if they didn't tell him what to think, what to do?

'Make your own choices.'

A little voice in he back of Zim's mind spoke up for the first time in his life. "Make my own choices?" Zim said aloud to himself, not caring if Dib overheard. The idea was completely foreign to him.

Zim thought about it on the bus ride all the way back to the skool.

Zim couldn't get the image of Jesus on the Cross out of his head. So he drew it. He drew on his book covers, he drew it on class assignments, quizzes, tests. He scratched Jesus' face and the crown of thorns on his desk before he was caught and given two weeks worth of detention for defacing skool property.

He used art books to look at more images of Jesus, different versions. In most, Jesus had the same, pained expression on his face. But in others, he looked eerily calm. Like he accepted the torture that was happening to him. In these depictions, he was always looking skyward.

Zim couldn't decide which one he liked more. The look of agony made Zim feel feelings he had never experienced before. But the calm ones made him feel something else. Hope, maybe. He wasn't sure. But he drew crucifixions on any flat, disposable surface.

One day, he tried drawing one in a large sketch pad he had "borrowed" from the art room when he got an incoming transmission from the Tallests. That was weird, it was usually Zim that contacted them. He let the transmission through and was greeted with the sight of a mischievously smiling Red, and a bored Purple, each with an Irken brand slushy in hand. Zim quirked an antennae in question but didn't feel like saying anything. So he decided not to. He just looked at them expectantly. Red covered a snicker. "So, Zim. How's Earth treating you?" (snicker)

"Mmm." Zim said. How was Earth treating him? TERRIBLY, but his Tallests already knew that so why ask?

Red spoke again. "Well (snicker) we have another advanced GIR unit for you (snicker, snicker) Only the best for our (wheezing laughter) top invader!"

Zim didn't see what was so funny about a new GIR unit. He did, however, see that he had put the shading on the same side as the light source in his current drawing of the crucifixion. He went about to change it, momentarily forgetting who he was supposed to be talking to. Red stopped laughing and looked at Zim. He was annoyed. This wasn't nearly as funny as it was supposed to be.

"Oi, Zim! What _are_ you doing?!"

Zim's head snapped up and his pencil stopped scratching. What was he doing? He was supposed to be having a conversation with his leaders. They never called him. This was important, wasn't it? Zim didn't think it was as important as fixing his drawing but he forced himself to focus.

"I… I'm making a drawing, my Tallest." He said slowly.

Red and Purple blinked at him. Purple stopped sucking on his slushy long enough to drawl out, "A… drawing. What on IRK ARE YOU DOING THAT FOR?!"

Zim swallowed, how could he explain it to them. They couldn't understand.. Unless he showed them.

Zim raised his drawing and wiggled it to emphasize that THAT'S what he drawing. "Do you see?" Zim asked. Purple made a face. "Yes."

Red stuck his tongue out. "That's disgusting!" Zim didn't think they were getting it.

"It's not disgusting." Zim said defensively. "It's… It's something. I don't know what yet. But I'm trying to figure it out." Zim looked at the scene again and frowned. He was missing it. Whatever it was he was looking for, he felt it was right underneath the surface but he couldn't reach it. "What am I looking for?" he asked himself.

Purple and Red looked at each other. Instead of rants about humans and destruction Zim was all quiet and stuff. "Well," Purple began, "I guess you're doing fine we'll just be going now." Before they cut the transmission, Zim heard Red's voice. "What kind of invader, or _Irken_ even, wastes time making stupid pictures?"

Zim sighed.

Nope. They didn't get it.

Hi Skool came. Zim hated it. After the first semester, Zim decided that he didn't want to go anymore.

He dropped out.

Sometimes, he would take Gir on a walk. They would walk all the way to the city. Zim would tie Gir to a lamp post (for all the good it did) outside the museum and then he would go inside and walk through the galleries. He always visited the crucifixion, but he saw other things, too. Modern art, someone named Picasso. His paintings and drawings looked so wrong at first that Zim wasn't even sure he was looking at anything at all.

Someone named Pollock. It wasn't art. Not the way the bowls of fruit were. Zim thought it was strange that all the lines and splotches of paint didn't make up a figure at all, but when he looked at those, he almost felt the same way he did when he looked at the crucifixions.

After a while, Zim stopped trying to take over the Earth. He decided he just didn't want to anymore.

Zim also decided to make a little money doing yard work. What little he managed to have left over after Gir's habitual taco fix, he used to buy coffee table books of art. He had no coffee table, so these just wound up getting stacked on the floor.

Once Zim stopped making any real effort to take over the world, Dib stopped following him around, and breaking into the base, and being and over all pain in the neck.

Zim decided he liked it that way.

After a while, Zim forgot why he was on Earth in the first place. Well, he knew why he was there, but he forgot why it had been so important to him in the first place. His mission didn't fee like a mission, anymore. It had lost its magic. He was no longer proud, or happy to be an invader. Instead he felt… apathetic about it. Zim had never felt apathy before. He figured the only way to fix the apathy was to go find something else to do. Something that didn't involve invading planets.

He called his Tallests to tell them of his decision.

In between mouthfuls of doughnuts, Red managed to bark "What do we care? You're an _invader._ It's your job to _invade_ the planet."

Zim looked up at his leaders as they kept stuffing themselves. Gritting his teeth, he told them what he had called to say all along.

"I don't want to be an invader anymore."

Red Purple gagged simultaneously. Purple glared at him. "What did you just say?"

Zim glared right back. "I. Don't. Want. To. Be. An. Invader. Any. More."

Red's mouth fell open. Zim loved being an invader. It was what he lived for. What was he talking about?

"Why?" Red asked. This just didn't make any sense.

Zim shrugged at him. "I changed my mind."

"He changed his mind…?" Purple couldn't believe it either.

"What do you want to do?" Red asked.

Zim shrugged again, "Well first, I want to get off this dirty… dirt ball-" "No," Red, growled, "I meant, what do you want to be… instead of an invader?"

"Oh." Zim hadn't thought of that. "I don't know."

Purple frowned. The jig was up. They were just going to tell Zim that he was banished and that he couldn't possibly come home. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

"Zim, you can't come back to Irk."

"I wasn't planning to."

Purple was so ready to deliver the soul crushing truth that he was literally floored to hear those words come out of Zim.

Irk's Tallests looked at the Zim. What should they say, or do. They never had an Irken quite… anything. Well, Zim had quite being banished, but this was a whole other ball park. It was like he was quitting… being Irken.

Zim was pleased. It seemed his leaders were taking this rather well.

They looked at him uncertainly. "Where are you going to go?" Red asked.

Zim sighed. "I don't know. Elsewhere. Maybe a capitol planet. Or maybe somewhere on the other side of the galaxy. I'll just have to wait to see where I end up."

Zim looked at his base around him. This was going to be exciting, it was going to be an adventure. And, most importantly of all, it was going to be his _choice_.

He looked back up the screen.

"I'll contact you, if I find anything worth sharing." Zim looked up at his Tallests for what he knew would be the last time.

"Goodbye." Zim awkwardly waved a farewell and then cut the transmission before Red and Purple had time to reply.

Goodbyes are hard, Zim thought. But he couldn't waste time being sentimental. He had a base to pack up and a robot to hose down. Strawberry ice cream was oh, so sticky.

With his base packed, Zim just had one last string to tie up. He walked to Dib's house early in the morning, before the human would have left for skool. Dib's sister opened the door. She growled at him before screaming "Dib! It's for you! It's Zim. I hope he's here to abduct you PERMANENTLY." Gaz wandered off and Dib appeared.

Dib frowned. "What do you want?"

Zim looked up at him. Dib had grown. A lot.

"I'm leaving."

Dib startled, "Bringing the alien armada here, Zim? Earth won't go down without a fight!" Zim made a sound that was probably the Irken equivalent of a snort. Apparently, old habits did die hard.

"No, Dib," Zim said shaking his head. "No armada. I… I quite being an invader. I'm leaving Earth. I'm going to go out there," Zim motioned toward the sky. "Zim just thought he should tell you. Your Earth is safe, Dib stink."

Dib dropped his defender of the Earth act and looked at Zim with the expression of a kicked puppy. "Are you coming back?"

Zim shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I'm just going to wait and see where I choose to go." Dib nodded and Zim turned around. Suddenly, he spun back around and looked at Dib.

"That man, on the cross… Did he die, Dib?"

Wide eyed, Dib nodded. "But then he ascended."

At Zim's confused expression, he added, "Jesus died on the cross. Then, three days later, he arose, alive again, and ascended up to Heaven."

Zim thought about this. "So, he didn't _really_ die then?" Zim hoped he didn't sound too hopeful.

Dib shook his head. "No. He left Earth and went up there." Dib motioned toward the sky. He realized what he was doing, and smiled. 2

Zim caught on as well. "Dib, I think I finally get it."

Dib swallowed hard, "See you." Zim nodded and turned to go. Walking down the side walk, all he could think was

_I get it. I get it. I finally get it._

From space, Earth didn't look nearly as polluted and nasty as it really was. Zim looked down at the controls of his Voot Cruiser and set the course. There was a large Capitol planet a few light years away. It had a very diverse population and was the nearest fuel source. "Our first stop, Gir. Think you can be quiet for a _couple_ days?"

"I'M GONNA SING THE DOOM SONG NOW!!! Doom da doom doom doom, doomy doomy doom…"

Zim just squinted (the Irken equivalent of an eye roll) at the stupid little robot and opened one of his art books. This was going to be long trip.

Zim wouldn't have it any other way.

.end.

. In reference: "Sunflowers" by Vincent Van Gough

"Water Lilies and Japanese Bridge" by Claude Monet

"Campbell's Tomato Soup I" by Andy Warhol

1. This is line a from the original script for "V for Vendetta" written by the Watchowski Brothers. I do not own the script. I am making no money from this. I was researching some more for my HP parody fic, "V for Vendetta" and stumbled across this quote. It inspired me to write this.

2. Ok, I AM NOT comparing Zim to Jesus, or anything like that. I don't even know if Jesus, was a real person, so I don't believe I am violating the site's terms and policies. Real or not, Jesus is still a very powerful and influential figure. I do not mean to insult Christians and Christianity. That is not my intent. In western society, Jesus is the poster child for rebirth and realization. That's mainly why I used the figure. Jesus on the cross is also a very powerful image. That is why artists depict. It's a very moving scene. Again, no insult intended. If I get flamed for it, I will probably delete your message because I went to the trouble of explaining everything here, and I do not want to have to explain it all over again because someone was itching to scream at me and did not read the author's notes.


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